


Légendaire

by kaleidomusings



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Enjolras is so done with everything, M/M, Unicorns, magic happens
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-22
Updated: 2013-12-22
Packaged: 2018-01-05 14:03:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1094776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaleidomusings/pseuds/kaleidomusings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At the request of the man who claims to have saved his father's life, Marius Pontmercy offers a reward for anyone able to capture a unicorn, creatures said to grant immortal life.</p><p>Enjolras is a huntsman who is very good at what he does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> There were some technical issues the first time I posted this fic, so I decided to repost it. I'm so sorry for any inconvenience!
> 
> And I wish I had a good reason for writing this, but I don't. The inspiration just hit me one day and it hit me hard. 
> 
> I regret absolutely nothing.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras meets a unicorn and a drunk named Grantaire.

Hunting is a far cry from the sort of living Enjolras ever imagined for himself, but he really has no choice in the matter, not when he has Cosette to think about. And while he finds no pleasure in doing what he does, even he has to admit that he's quite skilled at it. He also makes sure to hunt only out of necessity, selling and using every part of the game he can. As a result, Enjolras is able to do his job and do it well, while telling himself that he's content with the way things were. And -at least for a while- he almost starts to believe it. 

Of course, everything quickly changed when the unicorn is spotted just outside of town. 

The very last thing Enjolras wants to do is hunt a creature as majestic as a unicorn, but with the winter being so long and bitter this year, many of the poorer townsfolk has already succumbed to the cold and sickness. Enjolras may not like it, but he'll do whatever is necessary to make sure that Cosette doesn't become a victim as well, which means he has to provide the very best for her. 

"I can understand the deer and the rabbits," she says as she helps him pack his gear for the hunt. Her movements are quick and impatient, making him uncomfortably aware that she is  _angry_. "But hunting a unicorn isn't necessary, it's just cruel."

Enjolras doesn't pause as he slips his silver knife into his boot. Because Cosette isn't wrong, and -under normal circumstances- he would be just as furious as she is. After all, unicorn flesh turns to ash less than a day after the creature died, leaving behind only the horn. And while the horn does have magical properties that witches found particularly useful, the only real reward of hunting a unicorn is its blood, which is hardly a reward at all. Who would want to live forever in a world like this one?

As a young boy, his mother told him stories about unicorn tears healing the injured and its blood giving humans immortal life. Enjolras still doesn't know if there's any truth to such tales, but it seems like there are many who do. Still, it doesn't make hunting the unicorn right. And later, when Cosette is properly clothed and fed, with all the comforts she could ever want, he'll try to atone to what he's about to do.

"I had better go," he says, hoisting his gun and pack over his shoulder. 

Cosette nods, her mouth set in an unhappy line, but she leans up to kiss his cheek all the same. "May the gods protect you."

Enjolras doesn't tell her that he stopped believing in such things a long time ago, because what have the gods ever done for him? Instead, he nods and kisses her back before walking out the door. 

\--

Enjolras can't decide whether the other hunters are incompetent or just stupid. 

They're congregated at the edge of town, drinking their ale around their fires, completely ignoring the fact that unicorns avoids large groups of people when possible. But, as exasperating as it is, that means there is a better chance of him encountering the unicorn himself. So Enjolras ventures deeper and deeper into the forest, with only his cloak and boots to protect him from the cold, keeping an eye out for some sign of the creature. 

But he soon finds that to be more than difficult than he initially anticipated, because the ground is completely covered with a fresh layer of snow and the only footprints he can see in any direction were his own. But Enjolras keeps trudging along and only stopping to nibble on strips of dried meat that Cosette packed for him. 

He stares up at the sky as he ate, remembering it was a day like this when he met her for the first time. There are flashes too, impressions of being cold and scared that he didn't want to dwell on. To keep the memories at bay, he presses the heel of his palms against his eyes, and that is the exact moment when he feels warm puffs of air against his cheeks. 

Enjolras looks up quickly, blinking stars from his vision and finds himself nose to nose with the very creature he's been searching for. He holds his breath as his hand inches toward his gun, wondering if the unicorn will pierce him through with its sharp horn before he can reach his weapon. But all it does is stare at Enjolras with its big, round eyes and breathes in deep, like it's scenting him. 

Apparently satisfied with itself, it brushes his shoulder with its warm muzzle, sending something like a jolt through him, before turning around and walking away. And Enjolras can only watch it go, noticing that its hooves don't make a single imprint in the snow, almost as if it's floating.

He stands, trembling from the encounter, and levels his gun at the creature's back, his heart beating frantic and fast in his chest. He has every opportunity to shoot it. He knows all the ways to make its death as painless as possible, but he can't bring himself to pull the trigger. He just keeps his gun pointed at the unicorn until it disappears into the forest.

"There he is! Enjolras!"

He glances up at the call of his name, but slowly, as if waking up from a dream. But, no, his encounter with the unicorn really happened and there are Combeferre and Courfeyrac on horseback, making their way toward him with concerned looks on their faces. And behind them follows Enjolras' own mare -Madeleine- who immediately breaks into a run and nuzzles his cold face and hands.

"What are you two doing out here?" Enjolras asks, sounding dazed to his own ears. Madeleine pushs her nose insistently against his palm and he obediently pets her.

Courfeyrac frowns down at him from his horse. "Looking for you, obviously."

"Cosette said there's a storm coming," Combeferre adds a little more helpfully. "She was worried because you left on foot."

Enjolras glances up at the sky, still clear as it had been earlier, but Cosette has a sense about these sorts of things. He pats Madeleine one last time before heaving himself onto her back, turning her around to lead the way home. "I was hunting. Riding on horseback would have scared the game away."

Courfeyrac sighs loudly as his horse, Gunpowder, falls into step behind Madeleine. "You were trying to hunt the unicorn, weren't you?"

Enjolras decides not to mention that he actually just saw the creature and shrugs. "Pontmercy's reward is enough to feed Cosette and I for years."

"Unless the unicorn kills you first," Courfeyrac says and Enjolras glares back at him over his shoulder.

"It's also said that those who have spilled unicorn blood go insane not long afterward." Combeferre -riding his horse, Killian- meets Enjolras's gaze, looking serious. "You need to be careful."

Enjolras looks away and doesn't respond until they reach the little house he shares with Cosette. It's only when he slides off Madeleine's back that he makes his way to his friends and clasps their hands in his. "You are both very dear to me," he tells them, "And while I appreciate your concern, I need to do this."

Combeferre sighs, but Courfeyrac just smiles ruefully and squeezes his fingers. "You are impossible," he says, fondly exasperated.

Enjolras smiles back. "Not nearly as bad as you."

He tries to invite them in for dinner after they went out of their way to fetch him, but they decline. With it starting to get dark and Cosette's warning of an oncoming storm, they want to make sure that the goats were cared for and properly secured for the night. So Enjolras sends them off before putting Madeleine away, brushing her down and feeding her before heading inside. 

\--

The storm hits just as Cosette said it would. The door and the windows shudder with the force of the wind and Enjolras almost goes out to check on Madeleine a few times, but Cosette assures him that she'll be fine, and he's never any reason to doubt her. 

Cosette settles by the fire to read while Enjolras takes his gun apart, cleaning its parts, when there is a knock on their door. They freeze and stare at each other with held breath, startling when a second knock follows the first.

"Enjolras--" Cosette starts to say, but he's already up out of his seat, his silver knife in hand. 

Tightening his grip on the hilt, Enjolras slowly approaches the door and puts his hand on the knob, but he doesn't open it yet. "What do you want?" he demands through the wood.

"Hostile, aren't you?" the voice on the other side sounds amused, although slightly muffled from the wind outside. "I hate to intrude, but if I could stay the night to wait out the storm, that would be greatly appreciated."

Enjolras frowns and glances at Cosette, who meets his gaze and nods. He reluctantly opens the door and finds a man standing in the entryway, huddling in his cloak and covered in snow, his cheeks flushed with cold. He doesn't seem to be armed, but Enjolras still doesn't want to let his guard down.

The man glances from the knife to Enjolras' face, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Do you usually threaten visitors with bodily harm?" he asks curiously.

"You're a stranger," Enjolras snaps, but stepping aside to let him in and quickly shuts the door before any more cold air can seep in. "Haven't you tried the inn?"

The man shrugs and the snow on his shoulders falls to the floor around his feet. "I did try, but all the rooms are taken." He shakes out of his hair, another clump of snow joining the first. Enjolras tries not to think of the mess it's going to make, keeping his focus on the strange man in his home. "You know, for a supposedly sleepy little town, you're quite busy these days." He smiles at Cosette graciously when she takes his cloak and pack for him. "Thank you, dove." 

"My name is Cosette," she corrects him with an amused smile and gestures for him to sit while she busies herself by the fire. "And what is your name, sir?" 

The man sighs happily while sinking into the chair Cosette directed him to, seemingly unbothered by the way Enjolras sits across from him with a wary frown on his face. When the man notices his expression, he grins. "You can put your mind at ease, good sir. I'm just a simple wandering musician who needs a place to stay. You can call me Grantaire."

Cosette, ever the hospitable hostess, seems to accept this easily enough and hands him a cup of tea she's poured for him. "Would you care for a cup of tea, Grantaire?" she asks.

Grantaire's eyes light up at that. "That would be divine. And a little stew if you have any."

Cosette nods and heads to the kitchen to retrieve a bowl for him, leaving Enjolras to stare at Grantaire suspiciously. He may appear harmless enough, but there's no telling what sort of man he really is and Enjolras doesn't trust him one bit.

Still, Grantaire doesn't appear all that bothered by the scrutiny. He just plays with a silver ring on his right hand and smiles at Enjolras. "You never did say what your name was," he says after a moment. 

"Enjolras," he answers reluctantly. The last thing he wants to do is give his name to a complete stranger, but he knows Cosette is sure to scold him for being impolite if he doesn't. "And know that if you try anything inappropriate with my sister, I will make you regret it."

Grantaire holds up his hands in a placating gesture. "Despite what you may think of me, I would never dishonor a woman." Then he smirks, slow and lazy. "Although I wouldn't mind being inappropriate with _you_."

Flushing with embarrassment, Enjolras jerkily busies himself again with putting his gun together, not looking up when Grantaire laughs softly. 

"Here you go," Cosette says, coming out of the kitchen, carrying a tray with a bowl of stew and another cup of tea for Enjolras and herself. She serves them before sitting down next to Enjolras on a small stool, asking Grantaire things like where he came from, what kind of musician he was, and why he decided to visit their town of all places?

Grantaire answers while he eats, but they are vague in a way Enjolras doesn't trust. Apparently Grantaire is from a small town near the sea. He knows how to play the fiddle and the pipe, although he much prefers to sing. Cosette immediately asks him for a song and he obliges her by singing a lulling tune that Enjolras remembers his mother used to sing to him. But her voice never made his fingertips tingle with some emotion he has never experienced before. Then Grantaire mentions that he stopped by their town because he was on his way to the capitol and heard there had been sightings of a unicorn.

"Nothing like a legendary creature to inspire new songs," he says lightly.

"You're not really a hunter?" Enjolras demands. Cosette puts her hand on his arm, but he doesn't look away from Grantaire. 

Grantaire smiles ruefully and shakes his head. "Not unless looking for a muse is considered hunting."

Cosette frowns at Enjolras disapprovingly and stands, piling Grantaire's empty bowl and the cups of tea onto the tray. "I'm sorry that we don't have more," she says with an apologetic smile.

"Not at all," Grantaire replies. His tone is gentle and kind. "It's my fault for barging in on you like this and keeping you up so late."

With another smile and a warning look at Enjolras, Cosette bids them both goodnight, putting everything away and disappearing into her room. As soon as she does, Grantaire rises from his chair and goes to dig something out of his pack. Enjolras immediately straightens and arms himself with his knife again, but Grantaire just pulls out a flask and takes a long drink from it. 

Cold, icy dread curls in the pit of Enjolras' stomach at the sight because now he recognizes the ever present flush of Grantaire's cheeks. "Get out," he says. His voice is hard and flat, filled with barely contained fury, which seems to startle Grantaire into looking at him. "I won't have a drunkard under my roof. Get out."

"A little drinking never hurt anyone," Grantaire says. Which might have been a reasonable enough statement under any other circumstances, but Enjolras doesn't want to be reasonable. His mood worsens when Grantaire holds the flask out to him. "Here, have a drink."

"I don't drink," Enjolras says, barely able to contain his fury. "And I told you to get out."

Grantaire huffs, like he's amused by him and his reaction. He sits back down and swallows another mouthful from the flask. "Won't your sister find it strange when she wakes up tomorrow morning and finds me gone? Besides, where can I go when there's a storm raging outside?"

Enjolras grits his teeth, fighting against the urge to yell at him. He feels sick and his hands are shaking, but he doesn't realize how distraught he truly is until Grantaire places a hand over his. He flinches as a jolt dances across his skin and lifts his head, startled to find Grantaire looking at him with concern. 

"I'm sorry," Grantaire says, actually sounding sincere about it, which makes it all the more awful. "I didn't mean any harm."

No, he probably didn't. But, then again, drunkards never do.

Enjolras yanks his hand away and stumbles to his feet. "I'm going to bed. You can take the spare room."

"Enjolras," Grantaire calls, but he's already shutting his bedroom door behind him.

The next morning, he and Cosette wake up only to find Grantaire gone. All that's left is the silver ring he had worn sitting innocently at Enjolras' usual seat. Cosette is obviously disappointed and -although he would never admit it- Enjolras is as well. But Enjolras made his disdain for Grantaire clear last night, so he doesn't blame him for leaving. After all, if there is anything he's ever learned in this life, it's that everyone abandons him eventually. It's better that Grantaire leaves now, rather than later, when Enjolras actually starts to form an attachment to a man with the kindest eyes. 

\--

Enjolras tries not to think of the strange man who stayed in his house, despite the weight of the silver ring in his pocket. After all, he has a unicorn to catch and he can't afford to be distracted. But when he makes his way through the forest, the Patron Minette -a group that hunted game just for the thrill of it- ambushes him. 

Something hard strikes Enjolras over the back of the head and he hits the ground, the wind knocked out of him. Fighting a spell of dizziness and spitting snow out of his mouth, he tries to struggle to his feet, but one of the hunters (Gueulemer, if he remembers correctly) pins his arms behind his back. Two others, Claquesous and Babet, train their guns on him in case he tried to struggle or fight back, and then there is Montparnasse, looking all too smug for his liking. 

"It's been a while, Enjolras."

"Not long enough," he says and is struck across the mouth by Babet. 

Montparnasse twists a hand in his hair, yanking his head so far back that Enjolras bites the inside of his cheek to keep from crying out. "Don't make this harder for yourself than it has to be," he says, "This is just a friendly reminder that the unicorn is the Patron Minette's quarry."

"You can't do that!" Enjolras struggles, but is forced into stillness when the grip in his hair tightens. 

"Thenardier owes me a pretty sum," Montparnasse says. His tone is light, like he's discussing the weather in pleasant company, and Enjolras' skin crawls at the sound of it, knowing what sort of cruel things this man is capable of. "And I plan to take his elixir of life for ransom until I milk him and his generous benefactor for all he has."

"But Pontmercy has nothing to do with Therandier's debt." Granted, Enjolras doesn't know the governor's grandson very well. But, from what he can tell, he's distressingly naive and a well-meaning idiot. After the governor passed away, Therandier claimed to have saved the life of Pontmercy's father at some point. No one in town believes it, of course, but apparently his story is convincing enough for Pontmercy to, giving into his demands for a unicorn to repay him. Enjolras thinks Pontmercy is a fool, but even Pontmercy -despite all his faults- doesn't deserve to be taken advantage of by these lowlifes. 

Montparnasse shrugs. "Not my problem, is it? Besides, Pontmercy should be careful about the kind of company he keeps."

"Please," Enjolras says desperately. "I need the money for my sister."

Gueulemer roars with laughter. "Sister? The entire town knows you two aren't even related."

Not to be outdone, Claquesous joins in the taunting. "She's the daughter of a witch." With a sneer, he leans in so close that Enjolras considers biting him his nose clean off and says, "That makes her less than a brothel whore."

Enjolras spits in his eyes before he can stop himself. He may be cornered and at their mercy, but he won't stand for anyone insulting Cosette, least of all scoundrels who have no idea what she's been through. Claquesous shouts in outrage and points his gun at Enjolras' chest, finger on the trigger. Monteparnasse grabs his shoulder and tries to talk him down, saying it isn't time yet, but when he realizes it's no use, he releases him and tells Claquesous to do as he likes. Enjolras stares down the barrel of Claquesous' gun, too proud to beg for his life, and tells himself he isn't afraid. It's not like he has any regrets. But, even so...

 _I'm sorry, Cosette,_ Enjolras thinks and closes his eyes, wishing he could have apologized to Grantaire before he dies. 

Suddenly, a shrill neigh pierces the stillness. It could have easily been mistaken for a horse, but it's a sound unlike any horse Enjolras had ever heard before. It seems to resonate throughout the forest and sends chills down his spine. The other men look even more spooked as an icy wind swirls around them, dropping the temperature more than it was a moment before, and Montparnasse even looks afraid. When the unicorn bursts out of the trees behind them, knocking Gueulemer down, and Enjolras uses the distraction to his advantage. He wrenches himself free, kicks Claquesous' feet out from under him, and punches him in the face as hard as he can. Babet aims his gun at the unicorn but Enjolras throws himself at him, wrestling the gun away. 

He struggles to stand and points the weapon at Babet's chest. "Don't move," he orders. 

Montparnasse, who has been cornered against a tree by the unicorn, raises his voice hysterically. "There's a monster here! Aren't you going to shoot it?"

"The only monsters here are you lot," Enjolras says. He cocks the gun and fires close enough to Claquesous' groin to make him jump. "That was a warning shot. Get out of here before I start aiming for real."

The unicorn backs away from Montparnasse and he and his men scurry away like frightened dogs. 

As soon as they do, Enjolras loses the strength to stand. He drops the gun and crumples, his head pounding against his skull. Reaching up with a trembling hand, he touches the back of his head and inspects his fingers, realizing that they are covered in blood. 

The unicorn huffs at him and Enjolras smiles shakily. "If you're going to kill me, you had better get on with it." 

His words seem to startle the creature because it jerks back as if struck. 

"I'm a hunter," he explains to it. "And if you don't kill me, then I'm going to have to kill you and I--" He stops to blink tears from his eyes. "I don't want that. But I have to, you see? I need the money to take care of Cosette."

Moving slowly, the unicorn stretches out its neck and noses his face. It reminds him so much of Madeleine, but for some reason his thoughts turn to Grantaire. The wandering musician he knows nothing about. Who was kind and courteous to Cosette. Who teased and embarrassed him. Who apologized when he didn't have to. Who Enjolras wanted to know everything about.

Enjolras strokes the unicorn's soft muzzle with a trembling hand and regrets it when he gets blood on its snow white coat. "I was angry with him," he whispers. "I blamed him for something that wasn't his fault. Maybe that's why he left without saying goodbye. And I should feel relieved about it, but--" But he doesn't. He just feels sad and guilty.

"He wanted a muse," Enjolras says softly. "Please give him that for me."

It takes him by surprise when the unicorn snaps its teeth at him and rears back, tossing its mane like some wild thing. Enjolras wonders briefly if it's going to trample him to death, but then the strangest thing happens. The unicorn starts to glow with an amber light. The light begins from the tip of its horn, down its neck, across its shoulders, and over its flank until the light intensifies, forcing Enjolras to turn his face away. A moment later, Grantaire is standing over him with a furious expression on his face. 

He is also very, very naked. 

"You're such an idiot," he snarls at Enjolras, who gapes up at him because _what_. "An absolute fool." 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enjolras learns a secret and then jumps to conclusions, because that's what he does.

Enjolras stares, wondering if Gueulemer hit him hard enough to make him hallucinate. "Grantaire?"

"You could have died!" Grantaire shouts, grabbing him by the front of his cloak and heaving him to his feet, and Enjolras clutches at his wrists, trying desperately not to be sick. Apparently it shows on his face, because Grantaire sighs and places a hand on his chest. Right over his heart. "Don't move."

Enjolras starts to protest, but a gasp escapes instead as overwhelming _heat_ courses through his body for a long and overwhelming moment. When it's over, he's trembling and breathless, swaying on his feet, so when Grantaire pulls him close so he could lean against him, he doesn't fight it. Still... "You're naked," Enjolras says, his face hot from where it's pressed against bare skin. 

Grantaire huffs, sounding annoyed and impossibly fond. "That's a really brilliant observation on your part." He snaps his fingers and -with another flash of that amber light- he's wearing the same clothes from the night before. 

Pulling away, Enjolras stares at him as he reaches for the back of his head but finds no injury. In fact, his body feels better than it's ever been in a long time. "You healed me." 

"Yes. Yes," Grantaire says impatiently. He picks up Enjolras' gun for him and then catches his arm, leading him back to town like a wayward child. "Unicorn, remember?"

"But the stories-- You weren't crying--"

Grantaire laughs. But it's nothing at all like the laugh Enjolras heard the night before. This one is a terrible, painful sound, speaking of bitterness and pain. "That's all they are, Enjolras. Stories. The only truth is that there was once a unicorn who cried on the man she loved and healed him with her magic."

Enjolras struggles to absorb this new knowledge, that everything he thought he knew is just a fabricated lie, but Grantaire doesn't stop there. He goes on to tell him that unicorn horns aren't like how they're depicted in the stories. Witches might boil and grind the horns to use in their spells, but it doesn't actually do anything, because when a unicorn dies, it loses its magic and returns to Gaia, the goddess of the earth. 

Enjolras abruptly stops and forces Grantaire to halt in his tracks as well. "So--" He swallows hard. "Even the blood--" 

The pitying look Grantaire sends his way makes him feel even worse, as if he can't believe Enjolras could be so naive. And maybe he was, for believing a story as untrue as Thenardier saving the life of a nobleman. "Nothing lives forever, Enjolras. Not even the gods."

And how is he supposed to reply to that? Enjolras still wants to apologize for last night, but there's much more to it than that. There are so many things he wants to ask Grantaire and say to him if he could only get the words out. Except what right does he even have, when he'd been trying to kill him all this time? And for a story that held no truth to it at all.

Disgusted and angry with himself, Enjolras digs in his pocket for the silver ring and holds it out for Grantaire to take back. But he doesn't, all he does is stare at it for a long moment before meeting Enjolras' gaze with a look he doesn't like. "What are you doing?"

"I don't deserve this," he says impatiently. "You should take it back." Because the last thing he needs was for Grantaire to be so difficult about this. He doesn't deserve whatever gifts Grantaire might give him. He saved his life when he didn't have to and Enjolras can never hope to pay him back the way he deserves.

But instead of putting the ring away, Grantaire snatches Enjolras' hand and slips it onto the ring finger of his left hand. It surprises him and his expression must show on his face, because he can't think of any other reason Grantaire would grace him with the soft smile he gives him right then. "Come on," he says and twines their fingers together, Enjolras too stunned to do anything else except let him. "I'll take you home."

\--

Usually Enjolras never gets home so early in the day, so when he opens the front door and sees Cosette with Thenardier's eldest daughter -in the middle of frantically dismantling a spell- he freezes in place. But Grantaire doesn't even pause, he just pushes Enjolras inside and shuts the door firmly behind them. 

Enjolras rounds on him, furious. "You _knew_." 

"Of course I did," Grantaire says, rolling his eyes. He sits at the table across from Cosette and tugs Enjolras down in the chair next to him. "Magic recognizes magic, after all."

Thenardier's daughter, Eponine, glares at them. "I didn't sense you at all," she says, raising her chin in that haughty way she had. "What are you? A wizard?"

Grantaire just smirks at her. Enjolras, on the other hand, is staring at Cosette like he's seeing her for the very first time. And maybe he is, but all she did is stare back at him steadily, brave and unfazed.

"Were you ever going to tell me?" 

"No." Her voice is soft, but Enjolras flinches as if she shouted it at him. "My mother was a witch who suffered because people were afraid of what she was. I couldn't let anyone know that I could use magic. Papa taught me that."

Enjolras clenches his hands, hard enough that his nails bite into skin. "Valjean was not your father." 

Cosette nods in agreement, her eyes sad. "Yes. But when my mother died, he took me in and raised me. He may not be my father, but he's the only father I have ever known. I owe him everything."

"He left us," he says bitterly.

She looks at him with pity in her eyes, the way she does when Enjolras brings home a kill, mourning the loss of life no matter how small or insignificant. "Oh, Enjolras. We both know why he had to. Can you really blame him for that?"

Suddenly unable to take it anymore. Enjolras stumbles out of his chair, knocking it over in his haste to get away, and hurries out of the house. 

\--

Madeleine nibbles at the buttons of Enjolras' shirt, irritated that he doesn't have any treats in his possession to lavish her with. Enjolras ignores it and presses his face against her neck, trying to draw even the slightest bit of comfort from her. The ring Grantaire gave him catches the light and he stares at it, his thoughts whirling.

All this time, he never knew that Cosette was a witch. And maybe that shouldn't be such a surprise after finding out that Grantaire is a unicorn, but it is. He always thought of Cosette as his sister and it hurts to think that she couldn't trust him enough to tell him. 

 _No, that's not it_ , he realizes. Perhaps Cosette had been afraid of how he would react, that things between them might change, that he might turn away from her. And in this world, is there anything more terrifying than being abandoned by those you love?

He blinks back tears as Madeleine whickers, sensing his distress and concern for him. Enjolras chokes out a laugh. "I'm so pathetic," he says.

"I disagree," Grantaire says from behind him. Enjolras whirls around to find him leaning against the doorway with an unreadable expression. "You're infuriating and naive, but definitely not pathetic."

Enjolras rubs his eyes with a sleeve before he's composed enough to glare at him. "What are you even doing here? I'm a hunter. I'm going to have to kill you some day." It doesn't matter if he has to do it today or tomorrow or years from now. The end is inevitable.

Grantaire doesn't even so much as flinch at his words. He just shrugs as he makes his way toward them. "Everything dies eventually. It's just a matter of how or when." His tone turns teasing as he says, "There are worse ways to go than be killed by someone as beautiful as you."

Enjolras frowns, but before he can say anything in reply, Madeleine dips her head in a bow. He stares at her, taken back. She's always hated strangers and has certainly never greeted anyone like that before, not even him. 

Grantaire notices the look on his face and smiles. Enjolras would think it was condescending, but his expression is only fond. It seems he only looks at Enjolras with fondness, which is a thought he doesn't know how to deal with. "Horses are the descendants of unicorns. And while they don't have magic like we do, they're still pretty much the same."

"Do you--" Enjolras bites at his lip, suddenly unsure. "Are there many unicorns besides you?"

"No," Grantaire says. His words are so quick, Enjolras might have thought it was a lie, but he can see from the pained expression on his face that it's nothing but the truth. "I haven't seen another of my kind in a long time."

Tears of anger and shame wells up in his eyes and Enjolras turns away, smoothing his hands along Madeleine's flank, not wanting Grantaire to see him cry. He feels angry and guilty, although he can't really figure out why. But the thought of Grantaire being alone, the very last of his kind, fills him with sympathy he hasn't felt in a very long time.

He gasps when a strong and lithe body suddenly presses against his back, Grantaire's arms boxing him in. His heart speeds up, fluttering against his ribcage like a frightened bird, although he isn't sure what he was afraid of. He knows Grantaire would never hurt him and Enjolras could easily break away if he wanted to, but for some reason he doesn't even attempt to try. And maybe that is what scared him the most. 

Because there's nothing he wants more in that moment than to turn in Grantaire's arms and kiss him until they were both breathless, desperate for more. He wants it, even though a part of him is trying to tell him that kissing Grantaire is the last thing he should want. What good could come out of falling in love with a unicorn?

Then Grantaire leans in close and Enjolras can feel his warm breath against the back of his neck. "Eponine already left," he says.

Enjolras's mouth turns down in confusions, because Eponine is the last person he wants to think about in a situation like this. "I had no idea she was a witch," he admits. 

"She doesn't have much magic," Grantaire says. He nuzzles against the shell of Enjolras' ear, making him shiver. "She's nowhere near as skilled or as powerful as your sister, but Cosette has taught her enough spells to make her everyday life easier."

It's suddenly difficult to catch his breath and Enjolras leans against Madeleine, shaking when Grantaire follows his movements. Madeleine huffs at them both, but Enjolras doesn't even care. No one has ever touched him like this before and he's never felt this way about anyone until now, which frightens him. It frightens him by how much he wants Grantaire, and how much Grantaire seems to want him in return

But then Enjolras remembers in the stories his mother used to tell him that unicorns are drawn to virgins, so it's obvious that Grantaire doesn't really care about him. It's just a result of being a unicorn. 

Hurt and embarrassed by his own foolishness, Enjolras shoves Grantaire away as hard as he can. Ignoring the flash of hurt on Grantaire's face, Enjolras mutters some excuse and hurries away from the stable, ignoring Madeleine's startled whinny behind him. Grantaire also calls after him, but Enjolras doesn't look back, and he has to keep reminding himself that it doesn't matter even if he did.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much, everybody! I appreciate all of you taking the time to read this fic. If you could please leave kudos and comments on what you think of it so far, that would be really great. As for the next chapter, I'll try and have it up as soon as I can.


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